Run, Run, As Fast As You Can
by UnseenLibrarian
Summary: The moon rules Bill's life, but it has also set him free.   My 2012 Bill Ficathon entry.


**RUN, RUN, AS FAST AS YOU CAN**

**by UnseenLibrarian**

**Warnings: **Outdoor sex

**Disclaimer: **JK Rowling retains the ownership of all characters and settings borrowed from the Harry Potter series of books.

**Author's notes: **Originally written for **ginny_lv_harry** at the the 2012 Bill_Ficathon Exchange Fest. She had requested my favorite Bill Weasley pairing. I couldn't resist!

Thank you to my betas, **RZZMG** and **dormiensa**, who were tremendously helpful, and to the lovely Bill_Ficathon mod, **wwmrsweasleydo**, who has been so helpful and patient!

****~ R R A F A Y C ~****

**October 31, 2001**

The moon was full.

Bill's lips curled in a delighted grin, his teeth glinting. As it did every twenty-nine days, the moon stirred his lycanthrope-tainted blood and allowed his inner beast's id to dominate his humanity's super-ego. He was not a full were and thus did not transform; however, his already-keen senses grew sharper: his night vision was clear, his hearing superior, and his sense of smell acute. Since being bitten by the werewolf Greyback, Bill's body had become stronger, tougher, and harder. His health and stamina were well beyond normal human limits – as were his appetites for earthly pleasures.

He had not always been free to embrace the wolf inside him. To placate his then-wife, Fleur, he'd had to suppress his urges for years after the attack, since she found his lack of control at the full moon to be distasteful and crude. Instead of accepting him as he was, she demanded he suppress the animalistic side of himself, and she refused to have children until he did so. She hoped this threat would make him less fierce over time and turn him into the husband she felt she deserved.

It hadn't worked. Deep in his soul he'd known it wouldn't, even as he did his best to resist. Sure enough, the longer he denied himself, the more his wolfish nature grew in power until finally, two and a half years after they'd married, Fleur announced that she couldn't stand his wolfish tendencies any longer and that she no longer loved him. She left for France that same day.

Relieved, he'd signed the divorce papers without complaint, feeling more relaxed than he had in years. The full moon came a week later and for the first time, Bill was able to just _be_. He had explored the beach and dunes near Shell Cottage all night, delighting in the scents and sounds around him. He'd chased and caught a rabbit just for the sheer enjoyment of the hunt. He let it go unharmed, but he'd become so exhilarated and aroused during the pursuit that he had pleasured himself to climax right there on the dune overlooking the sea. When dawn came, he'd returned home and fallen, exhausted but happy, into a deep sleep.

In his own way, he'd experienced variations of three of the four basic _Fs_ of life: fighting (the chase of the rabbit), feeding (the capture and release of the rabbit), and 'fucking' (self-pleasuring this time to be sure, but he vowed he would soon find willing female companionship).

That had been almost two years ago, and in every month since, the moon never failed to kindle his spirit. Despite his scars, the newly-divorced Bill was a handsome wizard, and his looks and obvious intelligence drew witches to him. He had bedded various women, testing their tolerance for his dual nature. At first, they all found him intriguing and thought him an excellent lover. Then, at the full moon, some had completely balked at the idea of running with him. Others had humored him once, but only a few witches had said they'd like a repeat performance.

An even smaller number of those witches were deemed desirable enough to be invited back. Bill was searching for his ideal mate and she'd proven to be elusive. Fortunately, he liked a challenge.

**~ R R A F A Y C ~**

The moon was full.

Hermione watched as some bats flew across the bright white orb hanging in the sky, wheeling and swirling in one large group. Such freedom they had, those flying mammals.

She breathed in the cool night air and threw her arms wide. She was free, too.

For a year and a half after the war, she and Ron had tried to be a couple. In the beginning things were promising: passion, physical exploration, and enthralling giddiness had permeated their lives. After a few months, however, it became apparent to Hermione that those feelings were simply a reaction to the trauma and stress of the war. She and Ron began to drift in different directions. He wanted to start a family _right now_, and his unspoken expectations included Hermione staying at home and acting the part of an obedient little wife. She, on the other hand, had goals she wanted to accomplish and things she wanted to do and experience first. Having a family _was_ on her list, but at the age of nineteen, it was nowhere near the top of said list. Their differing priorities became so pronounced that Hermione did everything she could to not be alone with him.

Now, as she stretched her muscles, she remembered that it was a crisp autumn evening just like this one when Ron had broken his news to her. He'd met a thirty-year-old witch who wanted children, lots of them, and wanted them with him. Hermione was secretly thrilled that he would no longer be hounding her. She'd been ready to run as fast as she could, literally if she'd had to, to get away from Ron's outdated, rather chauvinistic ideals.

Ron was actually quite sweet and worried about breaking things off, but Hermione reassured him that they would always be friends. She had given him her blessings, and she was bowled over by the huge sense of relief she felt after he finally left her flat. She was free to be her own person again.

She'd made the most of the time since. She had traveled both alone and with her parents. She'd taken part in several wizarding internships to further her education. She'd also dated several young wizards, none of them seriously, but they helped her discover how much she enjoyed the physical aspects of a relationship.

Now, here she was: a bit older with more of the world under her belt. She was ready to take on some of life's more interesting challenges.

She began to chase the most fascinating one.

**~ R R A F A Y C ~**

Bill ran.

He panted, chuckling to himself between frosty breaths. This was the fourth _F_ of life – fleeing. He'd been zig-zagging through the moonlit trees for half an hour, leading his pursuer through a relentless game of cat-and-mouse.

No mouse was he. He liked to toy with his would-be captor when being chased, and he had no intentions of being easy prey.

As Bill leapt over the trunk of a fallen tree, a broken branch grabbed at his ragged jeans, holding fast. He yanked his leg loose, heedless of the scratches and tearing denim, and kept moving.

The cool wind blew his pursuer's scent to him; the little witch was closer, now, than she had been. The entanglement with the log had cost him a second or two of his lead in this merry chase. He had to give her credit; she was strong, healthy, and naturally swift. She had the advantage of clothing and footwear, too, while he was clad only in the now-shredded jeans. He had started out fully dressed, but he preferred to run naked under the moon and had been shedding clothes all along the way. He'd smirked each time he'd heard her exclamations of glee upon finding a carelessly dropped shoe, sock, or shirt. Throughout the entire pursuit he had just barely kept ahead of the woman, teasingly just out of her sight. Godric love her, but she was determined.

The moon was almost directly overhead, its pull stirring the beast inside, and he began to crave a different kind of physical activity. It was time to switch from 'fleeing' to the best basic _F_ of all.

Without further thought, he stopped and tore the remains of the denim from his hips, dropping the ruined jeans where he stood. He'd foregone wearing underwear. His nude, leanly muscled body gleamed with sweat and steamed a bit in the crisp, autumnal air. A quick glance back gave him a glimpse of her lithe form, moving quickly through the underbrush. In another moment she'd see him.

He swerved off the trail, hid behind a large ash tree, and waited.

**~ R R A F A Y C ~**

The witch stopped and leaned over, hands on her thighs, gasping. She huffed out a laugh at the sight of Bill's discarded blue jeans. _He certainly won't be wearing that pair again_, she mused. Sweaty from her exertions, she stripped off her jumper and cast a drying charm on the blouse beneath it with her wand, her senses on high alert as she caught her breath. She looked around cautiously, as she could no longer hear him moving ahead of her. Was he resting, too, or had she lost him?

As she peered into the trees ahead of her, listening hard, she was suddenly embraced from behind by a pair of long, muscular arms. They pulled her roughly against a firm, masculine torso and she squealed as her wand was wrested from her grip. The man began to drag her off the trail, a deep chuckle vibrating in his chest. She dropped her jumper and struggled in vain to free herself. She hissed in frustration. Despite all her efforts to catch _him, she_ was now the captive.

"Run, run, as fast as you can," came a honeyed growl in her ear. "You can't catch me; I'm the ginger-haired man."

He turned her around and pushed her back against the trunk of his tree, his hands holding her shoulders firmly. She tossed her hair out of her eyes and glared up at her quarry in annoyance.

"You smell so sexy when you're angry." Bill grinned down at her, his blue eyes dark and earnest. They darkened still further as he slowly looked her up and down. Desire surged in his veins. He wanted this witch. She was spirited, a good match for his animal side. She was clever and smart, a challenge to his intellect. And, she was lovely, all lush feminine curves. The moonbeams filtered through the bare branches above, casting highlights of silver over her curly brown hair. The color in her cheeks was high. Her deep brown eyes sparked with indignation, though the tiniest upturn of the corners of her mouth told him she was enjoying this as much as he was.

"Hermione," he murmured her name, one hand cupping her cheek, his thumb swiping gently across her lips.

Hermione shivered at the sensual caress. Her own gaze unwavering, she opened her mouth slightly and flicked her tongue over the pad of his thumb. He tasted divine, like the ocean and the sky. Bill was beautiful in the moonlight, his red hair tied back carelessly and his scars barely visible. His nude body was hot, steamy and feral, and it was _right there_, pressing against her. She shifted her hips. He groaned and she could feel the hard length of him against her belly.

She lifted her hands to his chest, slowly sliding her fingers down over his pecs to his abdomen, and then traced along the trail of hair below his navel with feather light touches. He stilled, eyes wide. He continued studying her intently as her hands petted and danced teasingly around his erection. "Tell me, Bill," she whispered. "Tell me what you want." One warm hand closed around the base of his penis, giving him a squeeze.

"You. I want you," he growled. "Now."

He leaned forward and covered her mouth with his, coaxing her lips to part with his questing tongue. He hummed with pleasure as he tasted her arousal. She inflamed his senses. His hands moved from her shoulders to her breasts, cupping them through the fabric of her white cotton blouse, the thumb and forefinger of each hand teasing her nipples. She moaned, giving him the chance to slip his tongue between her lips. She met his tongue with the tip of her own and they tangled together in an erotic game of tag.

Never breaking their kiss, Bill took hold of Hermione's shirtfront with both hands and pulled sideways, popping the buttons in rapid succession. He nudged the blouse open and she felt him grin against her lips. She chuckled; he had discovered her bra opened in front. He undid the clasp and shoved the lacy garment aside with his hands, kneading her hot flesh once again.

Hermione was aching with desire. Her breasts had always been sensitive, but Bill's hands were able to bring her pleasure she'd felt with no one else. He seemed to know just how to tap into the innermost core of her passion with the slightest caress. She pushed her breasts against his palms, sighing and moaning, wanting him to be rougher. He obliged.

"So soft, so sexy. So hot," he muttered as he tweaked and tugged her nipples. His lips left hers, allowing her to gasp and writhe as he kissed and licked his way down her throat. He pulled her shirt and bra completely off while he nibbled at her collarbones, tickling the vee where they met with the tip of his tongue. He sucked at her skin, leaving a trail of love bites across both breasts, and she cried out as his hot mouth engulfed one of her nipples at last.

"Yes, Bill, that's it! Oh, please…"

He paid lavish attention to each nipple, not wanting either one to feel neglected. As he did this she felt him thrusting his stiffness through her closed fist, pre-come making his cock slick. She began to actively stroke him from base to tip, rubbing the palm of her hand over its crown with each pass. Her other hand reached down to find his sac. She rolled his bollocks gently with her fingers, marveling at his silky skin, and felt his scrotum begin to tighten beneath her touch. He moaned as his erection pulsed and twitched, and she quickened her movements.

Suddenly he pulled back, eyes ablaze with lust, and stopped her hand with his. He stared at her, his jaw clenched.

"What's wrong, Bill? Did I hurt you?" she asked.

"Take. Them. Off." The command was low, penetrating, and absolute. "Now."

Hermione let go of his thick, hot shaft and went to work on her jeans. She unsnapped the fly, lowering the zipper quickly, and wiggled her hips to make them fall to her ankles. She was wearing white lacy knickers that matched her bra. Hooking her thumbs into their waistband, she slid them down her legs as well. Her trainers were slip-ons so they came off easily, and she stepped out of her pants and jeans and kicked them aside.

She shivered as the chill air touched her overheated skin. Bill's nostrils flared as he drank in her rich, female scent and her luscious curvy body. He dropped to his knees in front of her. Without preamble, he hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder and buried his mouth in her pussy. Hermione wailed as his tongue found her clit and she clutched at the tree behind her for support.

Bill grunted and groaned as he licked her labia, his hands kneading her buttocks and pulling her closer to his mouth. He thrust his tongue inside her as far as he could, his hot breath coursing over her slick folds and making her thighs quiver. He glanced up at her, his mouth never leaving her, and watched as she threw her head back, breathing heavily. Her hands crept to her breasts and she began to pull and tug on her nipples in time with his ministrations, mewling and chanting his name. He encouraged her to continue, squeezing her bum as he ate her out.

She began to pulse her hips against his face, rubbing her kitty lips over his chin. He knew she was getting close to climaxing. He moved one hand from her bum to her inner thigh, snaking it upwards to her apex, and he positioned two fingertips at her entrance, wiggling them just enough to drive her mad. She moaned and whimpered and tried to lower herself onto his fingers, but he was too strong for her, holding her up with his other hand on her bottom.

When she finally glared down at him with frantic eyes and sobbed out his name, begging and pleading for him to go inside, he thrust both long fingers up into her at the same time as he latched onto her clit with his lips and tongue, suckling hard.

"Bill!" Hermione shouted his name to the moon as her orgasm exploded through her body, flashing outwards from her center. Her toes curled and goose bumps covered her flesh as wave after wave of ecstasy broke over her. He grinned smugly, pleased he'd brought her to this point and knowing it was only the beginning for her.

Shuddering with her pleasure, Hermione was only vaguely aware of Bill's movements as he rose, gaining his feet to stand before her, but when he lifted her up by her hips and thrust his dripping cock into her quaking, clasping channel, she cried out his name again as a second orgasm poured over her.

He was sheathed to the hilt inside her liquid heat, his meaty thickness filling her completely, and her orgasmic contractions almost sent him over the edge. A low, continuous growl started in his throat as he began to pump in and out of her, holding her up against the tree with his arms under her thighs. Bill took in the sight of her as he thrust; her beautiful face and her jiggling breasts were flushed a rosy pink. He felt his dick swelling as he watched.

Legs splayed wide for him, unable to move except to clutch at his arms, Hermione glanced down and saw his hard, driving length disappearing into her pussy. She looked on in awe as her glistening folds sucked and grasped at his cock with every thrust, as if loath to let him go.

"Bill, look," she gasped. Bill followed her gaze and his eyes widened. The sight enticed him to move even faster and harder.

He was grunting and growling feverishly now, his muscles bulging. Their bodies made hot, wet sounds as they fucked and she could feel his sac slapping against her buttocks as he pounded into her. The sensations were exquisite. She could tell he would climax any moment now, and incredibly, Hermione felt yet another orgasm of her own building. She wanted desperately to come with Bill, so with one hand, she reached between them. She slid her hand into place and pressed her labia against his straining cock with her fingers on either side. Her palm rubbed her clit deliciously with Bill's movements, and the feeling of her soft nether lips sliding firmly against his oak-hard shaft was indescribable. Within seconds, Hermione was climaxing again, and with a shout of her name Bill came too, arching his back as he held her tightly against him. They cried out to each other under the shining moon, her inner walls clenching around him and his hot seed spurting into her again and again. Their pleasure seemed to last forever.

At last, they both were spent. Bill's erection softened and slipped out of Hermione's body. He lowered her feet carefully to the ground and they both laughed, for she was still wearing her socks. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him before bending over and grabbed her wand from where it had fallen at the base of the tree. She used it to cast a Warming charm over the two of them and to transfigure her clothes into blankets for cuddling.

Soon, they were snuggled up in the blankets beneath the ash tree, Hermione's head resting on Bill's shoulder. He took her hand in his, drawing it up to his chest, and together they watched the sky through the bare trees overhead.

**~ R R A F A Y C ~**

The moon was full.

The moonlight shone through the branches above and made the wedding ring on Hermione's hand gleam. Bill closed his large hand gently over her small one. She was breathing deeply and evenly, a sure sign of slumber.

He mulled over the path his life had taken. When he was attacked by Greyback, he'd thought his life was over. His years with Fleur had started out well enough but had soured quickly. His divorce, which had allowed him to be true to his inner wolf, had been the best thing to happen to him – until this witch in his arms had become his.

"I feel so free with you." Hermione's voice was clear and alert. She hadn't been sleeping, after all. He squeezed her hand, threading their fingers together.

"I felt stifled with Ron. You know I love him, Bill. He's one of my best friends. But to think about being with him forever just made me cringe. When our relationship ended, it saved our friendship. It was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Had she read his mind? What she'd just said was so similar to his musings on his own life. Bill stared up at the stars, processing this. He could see the Big Dipper through the branches, and he followed the two stars at the outer edge of the Dipper's bowl to Polaris, the North Star. Always constant, though the sky changes around it.

This witch in his arms - _his_ witch, was his complement in every way. His life's path had led him here to now, this moment, with his ideal female. He wouldn't change a thing.

"I love you, Hermione. It's been a month; are you still glad you married me, beast that I am?" he asked with a smile in his voice. She paused to think, earning herself some tickled ribs from her husband.

"I am," she said simply. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I love you, Bill, man and beast. We don't need to run away. We run with each other. We are free."

Bill was quiet, hearing once again the echo of his thoughts in her words. He held her even more tightly to him. Hermione sighed as she finally fell asleep. Sated, happy, and warm, he drifted towards sleep himself, while the North Star anchored the sky and the full moon, their moon, shone through the trees.


End file.
